Raistlin's Daughter
by RamiaQuizzlinger
Summary: A whatif story what if Usha really was Raistlin's daughter? Why would he deny it?
1. The Dream

This story is written in response to Dragons of Summer Flame. It is a what-if story - what if Usha really is Raistlin's daughter? It is also written so that it does not interfere with anything in Dragons of Summer Flame. Nothing in the books would change if this idea were true. It is written from Raistlin's point of view.

The timeline for this chapter is after Raistlin died and before Palin's test, when Usha is about eight years old.

* * *

Silence. 

In the end, there was only silence.

Raistlin Majere sighed. He had just woken from one of his dreams in the Abyss. Many of his dreams were pleasant ones about what was happening with his family. They were dreams about his brother, his nephews and nieces - Crysania. But this dream was not, by any means, pleasant. Raistlin supposed that it was a fictional dream, one of those occurrences that were so rare now. This dream was about a child.

Raistlin tried to replay the dream.

_The child had silver hair, like starshine. Her skin was pale, her features delicate. She was dressed in outlandish, silvery clothes that could only be worn in a hot climate. _The Dawn_, his mind whispered._ This is the Dawn.

_The child was in what was undoubtedly her room. Toys were scattered carelessly around it, lines scratched into a wall seemed to serve no purpose, outside the window beautiful trees swayed. But the child ignored her toys, ignored the view. Her face was buried into her bed, the tangled mounds of hair on her head all Raistlin could see. Raistlin, standing on the other side of the small bed, could hear the muffled sounds of crying from the tiny figure. He felt compassion for the child and wondered why she wept. Stepping silently closer, Raistlin was startled when the girl lifted her head to stare right at him._

Raistlin shook himself, trying to cast aside the useless dream. Inexorably, however, the dream returned.

_The child stared right at him, through him. Her eyes, swollen and red from crying, filled Raistlin's vision._

_Gold eyes._

_Like Raistlin's._

_"Mommy, Daddy, why aren't you here? Who are you? Mommy, why don't you hold me?" The girl cried out, the words ripping from her throat, shaking the house with her scream. The child fell upon her bed, whimpering. She writhed, shuddering with silent tears. Raistlin was rooted to the spot, watching. The girl finally ran out of tears and looked again at Raistlin, although she still apparently could not see him. Her golden eyes, so much like his, were miserable. When the girl spoke, her voice was soft and hoarse from crying._

_"Daddy? Why don't you help me?"_

Raistlin snarled, shoving away the dream. It certainly was not true; he had fathered no child, for none but Crysania had ever been truly interested in him and Raistlin had never allowed himself to fall prey to his love for her. No, the dream was only a dream, a figment of imagination. Perhaps it was fostered by Raistlin's continual loneliness, a longing to be accepted and loved. Perhaps Raistlin even wanted a child to be his own like Caramon had his. In any case, the disturbing dream was fictional.

Having arrived at this conclusion, Raistlin permitted himself to fall asleep.

* * *

There will be more chapters. Please review, all constructive reviews are welcome! 


	2. A Bitter Choice

The story of Raistlin's Daughter continued. The flashback is from Dragons of Summer Flame, page 340. There is a slight reference to the short story _Raistlin's Daughter_ in _Tales I, Volume 3: Love and War._ The position in the story is page 365, after Raistlin has arrived at the Inn of the Last Home and talked to his brother the night long. Caramon has just left Raistlin to watch the sunrise.

-----

Raistlin sat silently in the chair, staring out of one of the Inn's windows. He watched the sky turn blazing orange, the sun blasting the air as it rose. That reminded him of Palin's story.

_"There are several versions, but according to most, you and father were returning from your Test in the Tower of Wayreth. You were ill. The weather was turning bad. You both stopped at the Inn to rest. A woman entered, asked to spend the night. She was muffled and cloaked. Some ruffians attacked her. You and father saved her. She tried to keep her face hidden, but her scarf fell off. She was beautiful," Palin said softly. "I know how you must have felt, Uncle, when you looked at her! I have felt the same way." He was silent, smiling, entering his own fable._

_"And then what happened?" Raistlin asked, jolting the young man from his daydream._

_"Well, um," Palin stammered. "To make a long story short, you and she... well, you, uh..."_

_"Made love," Tas said. "You two made love, only you didn't know it, because of the Irda magic, and she had a baby that had golden eyes, and the Irda came and took the baby away."_

Obviously, the Irda would have used a Forget spell to wash away his memory, as well as Caramon's. The kender's muddled description was clear enough to show that. And Raistlin did remember something... standing inside a cave, staring inside, the smell of spring and lilacs in the air... the story could be true, but very unlikely. Then Raistlin remembered Palin telling him the name of the young woman he met.

"Usha, Palin said her name was," Raistlin murmured, staring at the sky. "The dawn. That is what her name means. The dawn... a baby with gold eyes..."

The reality struck Raistlin with force, setting him to coughing. After the spasm, he laughed, bitterly and silently.

"Of course. Of course. The dream," Raistlin muttered caustically. "It fits. Her golden eyes, her beauty that I could not explain, even her name." Soft echoes of the dream whispered in his mind, bringing images of the beautiful, miserable child of his dream to Raistlin's mind. 'The dawn.. this is the dawn..'

Raistlin's face twisted into a mask of pain and anger. "She is half-Irdan, of course. That explains her beauty. The beauty that my nephew has fallen prey to." The jealousy in his voice startled him, caused him to consider his feelings. "Am I really that selfish, that I would be jealous of my own nephew?" Raistlin smiled bitterly. "But I do envy you, Palin. You could have her. You could love her, cherish her, make her happy. You could have everything. You need not sacrifice her for the magic, as I sacrificed Crysania. There is no reason to hold back. You can offer her... everything."

Raistlin sighed wearily, sorrow replacing the anger. "There is nothing I could offer her," he whispered in his shattered voice. "Nothing. I am dead, and even if I were not, what could I give to the girl? Nothing. Dust and cobwebs. Protection, but not from the night, for I am perpetually in the dark. Palin could love her, given time. He is certainly attracted to her." Raistlin felt guilty and lonely, remembering his own attraction and love for Crysania. Brooding, he stared down at his tea. "I could not have Crysania, nephew, by her choice and mine. But I am the one who can decide whether to allow you this, Palin. She can be my daughter or your love, but only one."

Coming to a decision, Raistlin lifted his head, staring again at the burning sun.

"Very well, child whose name means 'the dawn'. For Palin, I shall deny you. And for you, my dear daughter. He will give you happiness, that which I never could."

Thoughts full of Palin, Usha, and Crysania, Raistlin waited for his brother to return.

----

Sorry for the long wait. Writer's Block set in, then school and work took up my time. I will try to get the next one up in a reasonable amount of time.


	3. Meeting Usha

The story of Raistlin's Daughter continued. References: Dragons of Summer Flame, The Soulforge, Raistlin's Daughter (Tales I, volume 3).

* * *

A black-robed figure strode quietly down the streets of Palanthas. None of the Grey Knights apprehended him for breaking the curfew. As he turned and entered an alleyway, no alarms were sounded. For this particular alleyway, that was unusual. If any of the occupants had heard a hint of a whisper, there would have been daggers at the person's throat. 

The reason for this extreme silence was simple. Walking spirits make no sound. And even in life, Raistlin Majere had seemed to meld with the shadows.

Coming to tonight's objective, a dilapidated warehouse, Raistlin stopped and very softly knocked on the door. After a few seconds, a male gully dwarf opened the door. He did not seem to see Raistlin. The gully dwarf's stench - a mixture of dwarf spirits, reeking dirt, and something rather left unnamed - filled the alley as he started to hunt for rats. Raistlin smiled a little, thinking of another gully dwarf he knew, and waited patiently. The creature jumped along the ground, chasing after tails and small bodies, and then lifted up the hem of Raistlin's robes. Raistlin lightly stepped on the dwarf's hand.

The scream ripped the night, likely waking half the city. Seven hulking men came to the door suspiciously, threw it open, blocking the doorway. Raistlin lifted a hand and drew the Thieves' Sign in the air. One of the men grunted and glanced back at the others. "He knows the sign," the man said. All of their weapons lowered. The horde of others in the warehouse, which Raistlin could now see, were staring at him. The mages of the Thieves' Guild were preparing their magic, unrolling scrolls and opening pouches, just in case Raistlin was unfriendly. Raistlin smirked. They had no idea that any magic they cast would have absolutely no effect on him.

The man who had spoken, obviously the leader, snarled at the gully dwarf to shut up and kicked him. Then the leader turned back to Raistlin. "What do you want, wizard?" he asked. "And the answer had better be good, or there'll be hell to pay."

"I'm looking for someone," Raistlin murmured softly. "I intend you no harm and may mean you some good. I am searching for my daughter."

There was a crash, followed by the leader's laughter. "Hey! He's lost his daughter! Should I let him in, Sally Dale?" A woman wearing a red tunic, obviously a mage, nodded. Raistlin entered and the leader slammed the door shut quickly after him. "Take yer hood off. I like to look a man in the eyes," the leader grinned.

Raistlin, with a sardonic smile, lifted his hands and slowly removed his hood. He saw the horrified look on the leader's face at seeing Raistlin's countenance and smiled inwardly. Raistlin widened his hourglass pupiled eyes and stared at the leader, who went white. "By Hiddukel, wizard, you've got a face out of a nightmare! I pity that daughter of yours if she looks like you."

"You would do well to pity any child of mine," Raistlin said softly, beginning to scan the room. He quickly noticed a woman matching Palin's description with what appeared to be a broken pitcher at her feet. "What is your name?" he asked.

The woman did not answer, but she did not have to. The leader did that for her. "Her? Why, we call her Raistlin's...Raist..." He hissed in shock.

The mage woman gasped and ran forward, whispering to the leader urgently. He backed away, started gabbling as the entire hall began hissing with Raistlin's name. "There's your daughter, Master! Take her! We ain't laid a finger on her. I swear it. No matter what she says. We didn't know, Master. Who would have thought? I didn't mean... don't take offense..."

"Be gone," Raistlin commanded, tiring of the lying man's foolishness. "Get out. The lot of you." The leader laughed nervously, made a token of protest. "Get out? Us? I say, Master, that's hardly fair. Why don't you leave? It's _our_ guild hall..."

Raistlin frowned and tilted his head very slightly so that the lamplight flickered in his narrowing eyes. Raistlin pointedly slid his hand toward the only pouch on his belt.

The mage shook the leader hard enough to rattle his bones. "You fool! This is Raistlin! Raistlin Majere! The wizard who fought the Dark Queen himself! He could blast this hall to Lunitari if he chose, and us along with it!" The leader eyed Raistlin, still not convinced.

Raistlin opened the pouch.

All the thieves in the guildhall ran, terrified, out of every possible exit. Soon, Raistlin and Usha were alone.

Raistlin pulled a handful of the herbs he used to make his tea from the pouch, walking to the table near Usha and searching until he found a decently clean cup to drop the herbs in.

"Bring hot water," he ordered quietly.

The girl swiftly did as he asked, fetching a kettle from the fireplace. Raistlin was pleased by her obedience. He studied Usha as she poured the water into his cup.

From this angle, Raistlin could not see her face, but he recognized the hair of starlight from his dream. Her thin figure and her pale white skin he knew as well, although it had changed somewhat because of her aging. Raistlin shivered with a soft sigh, wishing that he could claim her.

Usha was shaking. Raistlin was not surprised. She had been claiming that Raistlin was her father and suddenly that man appeared. No doubt she had heard the stories of his magical prowess and the frightened tales that swirled around his legend. Raistlin knew that no one would have told her about little Bupu.

He sipped his tea quietly. Usha replaced the kettle and paused, seeming to collect herself, then she walked back to sit across from Raistlin.

He lifted his head. She shrank away from him and lowered her gaze. Sadness poured through him and he tenderly touched the top of her head. She shuddered with the chill of his touch. For the first and last time, Raistlin let his hand linger on her head, brushing her hair gently with his fingers. She allowed it, not pulling away.

Raistlin slid his hand down to her chin, lifting her face gently. He forced her to look into his eyes, just as he forced himself to say the words. "You are no child of mine," he said coldly. But he could not prevent the aching sadness from leaking through his voice.

"I could be," Usha said, and he heard a similar ache in her own voice.

"You could be the child of any man," Raistlin remarked dryly. He regarded her intently. "You have no idea who your real father is, do you? Why did you choose me?" Raistlin was puzzled, for he was not a man most would see as a father figure.

The girl swallowed and managed "The kender... told me about the legend. I thought... everyone seemed to respect you... I was alone and.." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I never meant any harm."

Raistlin sighed. "The harm would not have come to me. You nearly brought it upon yourself. I wondered..." He stopped speaking, but thought painfully _I wondered why you would be happy to live under my shadow_. Raistlin took a sip of his tea, gripping his emotions firmly.

"They would never tell me," Usha said. "They said it didn't matter."

"By 'they' you mean the Irda."

She nodded. He started to speak, then snapped into one of his coughing fits.

"Are you alright?" Usha asked in concern. "Let me get you something."

Raistlin grabbed her wrist before she could leave, held her tightly. He coughed and gasped for air, knowing that his hand hurt her as he spasmed, but not able to hold her still without her pain.

The coughing fit passed and Raistlin drew in a breath. He wiped the blood from his lips with his black sleeve.

"Sit down," he gasped, barely making his words audible.

She obeyed him and he relaxed. His hand dropped to her arm and she edged closer. He felt warmer as her life trickled through her arm, her body heat thawing the chill in his lifeless body.

"What is your name?" Raistlin asked, knowing the answer. He asked so she would not be so afraid.

"I am called Usha."

"Usha..." he repeated softly. "Do you know what that means?"

"Why, no," she said, blinking. "I never thought about it. I never supposed it meant anything. It's... just a name."

"A name that comes from another world, another time. Usha means 'the dawn'. I wonder..." Raistlin mused, gazing at her. "Did the one who named you know the meaning? Did he or she have foreknowledge of what was to come? It would be interesting to find out."_ It would also be interesting to know how that meaning entered my dream._

Obviously completely indifferent to the subject, Usha said "I _could_ be your daughter." Raistlin heard the longing in her voice. His eternal loneliness both softened him to her plea and hardened him against it. It would only make her more unhappy if he did acknowledge her as his. "I have golden eyes, eyes the same color as yours."

"So did your mother." This was a complete lie, of course, although there was a woman who had the same hourglass eyes as Raistlin. Par-salian had used the same spell on him as was originally placed on a sorceress, Raelana.

Usha stared at him, obviously yearning to hear more. She had not believed herself about being his daughter, apparently.

"You know who my parents are," she cried, closing her hand over his in her need. "You know who I am! Tell me, please. How did you find out? Did you go to see Prot. Is he well? Does he miss me?"

_It is a lie, child. Can you not see that? Have you not heard of how much I lie?_

"I did _not_ visit the Irda," Raistlin replied sharply. "I had no need. I was once known as the Master of the Present and the Past. Time holds no constraints for me. The river's waters carry me wherever I want to go."

At least that part was not a lie.

Raistlin drank his tea, moistening his throat. "When I first heard of your claim, I disregarded it. My brother, Caramon, told me the legend, of how a mysterious woman seduced me, bore away my seed within her, and cast on me a magic spell of forgetfulness. I did not believe it. What magic exists that could be powerful enough to banish the knowledge from my heart that I had once been loved. Not even death can do so much," he added softly to himself. He saw the cave again, the soft smell tempting him to remember and linger. Remembering Usha, Raistlin continued the fabrication.

"And so I paid little attention to your claims. Caramon assured me there had been others before you and, I assume, there will be others to come after. I thought little more of the matter until I attended the Wizard's Conclave in Wayreth Tower. Again your name was spoken in connection with mine, only this time it was spoken seriously. Dalamar the Dark made the claim."

Raistlin's voice hardened as she shuddered. "Yes, Usha, you do well to shiver at that name. He intended to use you, if the claim proved true, use you to gain a hold over me." _Oh yes, dark elf, yet your plans went awry. I am not so easy to read. Even if I did claim her eventually, I would have pretended she was not mine until I had Usha protected from you._

"I had no choice. I needed to know for certain. I waded Time's dark river; I ventured into the still waters of the Irda's stagnant pond. I found the truth."

Raistlin coughed again briefly.

"I do not know where your parents were from originally. I did not venture back so far. When I first saw them, they had been captured and made slaves by minotaur, were sent to serve aboard a minotaur ship. The minotaur do not treat their slaves kindly. One night, believing that death could hold no terrors for them equal to what they already knew, your mother and father gave their lives into the hands of Zeboim. They cried to her for mercy and jumped overboard into a raging sea.

"Zeboim is a capricious goddess. She will turn with savage fury on those who serve her faithfully. She rewards those who might seem least deserving. She was flattered that these two had sought her protection and provided them with the wreckage of a raft. Her breath guided them to a safe landfall, and, in this, I think the goddess intended mischief. She led them to the secret isle of the Irda.

"The Irda took pity on the two, who were discovered cast ashore, more dead than alive. The Irda gave your parents shelter and food. They took care of your mother when it was apparent that you were on the way. Yet, though not brutal or cruel as were the minotaur, the Irda inflicted their own form of torture. They did not intend it," Raistlin added, shrugging. "They simply could not understand the needs of the two humans. When your parents were well, they wanted to leave, return to their homeland. The Irda refused. They feared that your parents would betray them to the rest of the world. They made them virtual prisoners. your father rebelled, defied them openly."

Raistlin gazed steadily at her. "The Irda killed him."

"No!" Usha faltered, shocked. "That can't be true. I don't believe it! They could never have done such a thing! Why, Prot wouldn't even crush a spider!"

"The Irda didn't mean to. You know them, Usha. Can't you picture how it was? They were repulsed and angered by the man's anger, his violence. They intended only to teach him a lesson. But their magic was too powerful, they went too far. None of their healing arts, none of their prayers, would bring him back.

"Not long after that, you were born. Your mother, in her grief, wrapped you well one night, laid you down in your cradle. Then she walked into the sea and drowned. The Irda found her footsteps on the shore, but they never found her body. Perhaps, after all, Zeboim demanded a price for her previous kindness."

Usha's head lowered, tears clinging to her silver lashes.

"Remorseful, the Irda raised you. They lavished on you all kindness, denied you nothing except the knowledge of who you are. They could not tell you the truth without telling you all. And that they would never do."

"I understand," Usha choked. "The Irda did not want to make me unhappy."

"They did not want to admit that they had acted wrongly," Raistlin corrected, his voice sharp. "The pride and arrogance of the Irda, which in ancient days brought ruin on their own race, is now likely to bring ruin upon us all. Still," he added grimly, "I must not be uncharitable. They have paid for their folly..."

Usha looked up. "What did you say? I'm afraid I wasn't paying attention."

"Never mind. It wasn't important." Raistlin rose from the table. "I must go. But first, I give you this advice, Usha, whose name means 'the dawn'. You are thinking of fleeing Palanthas in an effort to escape your 'teachers'."

Usha stared at him. "How did you-"

Raistlin cut her off impatiently. "There is no need. Your training is complete. You are free to leave the guild this night and never return."

"They won't let me-" Usha began.

"I think that, once they know who you are, they'll let you go," Raistlin said, grimly amused.

"What do you mean? You're... not going to tell them..."

"I see no reason to do so. This remains between you and me and perhaps Dalamar, if he oversteps his bounds. Besides, I have a reason for wanting you to stay. Someone is on his way to Palanthas now. He comes seeking you, and you, I think, will want to be where you can be found. This is someone," Raistlin added dryly, a slight smile touching his thin lips, "who will be very glad to know that you and he are _not _related."

"Palin?" Usha whispered. "He's safe? He's coming here, for me?"

"I gave him that task," Raistlin said, smiling inwardly at her hope. "It was one he accepted with alacrity."

Usha's face blushed bright red as she reveled in the knowledge she was loved. Raistlin left silently, not disturbing her joy with his presence.

Raistlin walked swiftly out of the alley, his black robes swirling around his ankles as he headed for the Great Library. When he was out of hearing of the thieves, Raistlin mocked himself bitterly.

"And so she is happy. Quite pleased that I am not her father. I was correct that she would be. She and Palin will be happy, free from the fact that they actually are related." Raistlin laughed eerily, cutting himself with the caustic edge of his bitterness. "You owe me, Usha, but you will never know."

Raistlin paused, halting his footsteps for a moment. Four guards passed by as Raistlin contemplated his statement. "No, you do not owe me, my daughter. I have relieved the debt I owed to you. The debt incurred by my absence. Because I was not there, you were forced to endure bitter pain."

Staring into the night as he recalled his dream to mind, Raistlin sighed. "Forgive me," he murmured. "Forgive me, my daughter."

Shaking his head, Raistlin continued on to the Great Library.


End file.
